My professor is looking at cars on a white projection screen
I am wondering why it was worth my time to come today
Bought a book for $260 so here I am

The boy with a Mohawk and
Chiseled cheekbones looks at me
I always catch him glancing back 3 rows

I don't know the colour of his eyes
But I know the exact bone structure of his jaw
and the way he tightly clenches his fist until the knuckles are white

He makes me wonder what I am
To know that I want nothing more than
His hand colliding with my face
What does that say about me

My professor is an old man who can't walk without a cane
He shows us his ****** art he is so proud of
We are all in rose colored glasses
That does not go away no matter our age
And that is probably the saddest thing